Where I Am From... Happy Father's Day

At 5:10 this morning a huge clap of thunder replaced the usual loud chirps of a very early morning cardinal I look forward to hearing every day.

Since I couldn't go back to sleep, I decided to use an old lesson plan I used to inspire some of  my students. I filled in the blanks here
to create a poem based on my daddy..

I snapped a shot of one of my favorite photos of  Daddy holding my son about a lifetime ago... My dad had stopped one wintry morning after feeding the cattle... just to see my son, have a quick cup of coffee, and leave us laughing... I keep this photo tucked in my yarn and fairy cupboard... just a reminder that the road through present worries can often be found on interior ground through the happiest of memories of those common days.

I AM FROM

GERALD MILLER

I am from	huge gardens filled with dinner-plate dahlias and sweet corn
from	a little bulldog called Queen and homemade grapebutter sandwiches.
I am from	the square, white house situated at the end of the street
and	just down a path from the one-room school.
I am from	muddy country roads,
whose	every bog reaching out to capture my tires as I delivered the mail.
I am from	winter coats, summer hayfields, insulators, and fishing holes;
from	Big George and Iona Marguerite,
and from	both stubbornness and generosity;
from	hospitality, honesty, and honor.
I am from	tiny Mt. Salem Baptist Church;
from	banana cake, and biscuits 'n gravy;
from	Grandfather Franks and his honeybees,
and from	the summit of telephone poles as a Southwestern Bell lineman...
	and from a Lionel train treasured from a cold Christmas Eve.
I am from	the day I first set eyes on the woman of my dreams, through
	my years as the proudest dad and Paw-paw in the land.

Happy Father's Day to my favorite dad...

Whimsy and Hugs!